A Cornish Affair

Parking

Rosie had found some teabags and milk on exploring the kitchen the following morning. She opened cupboards, randomly, hoping for a hidden box of cereal or warm croissants with a selection of preserves. No such luck. So she made a pot of tea and waited for the others to get up. They'd passed a supermarket on the outskirts of town. They could go and stock up there later.

Rosie wandered to the sofa and sat down, wrapping her light dressing gown around her. The sunlight streamed through the window and Rosie suddenly regretted choosing a basement apartment. They'd be outside soon enough though. They could always take their meals in the garden they'd seen last night. It was just good to be somewhere to relax. She thought about Lee, wondering what he'd be doing. The football season was over, so that probably ment an afternoon in the pub with his mates. Usually followed by the cinema together or a take away at a friends house. What would he do without her? Stay in the pub probably.

Rosie looked at her watch. It was just after nine and she had to admit she was getting a little bit hungry. The chicken burger she'd had seemed many hours ago. But she was suddenly brought out of her thoughts by a loud buzzing noise coming from the front door. She listened. There it was again, lasting longer this time. Rosie put down her tea and went to the door. She opened it tentatively. But there was noone there. She was confused. But at that moment, the buzzing happened again, right by her left ear. It was coming from an intercom on the wall. She pushed the button.

"Hello!" she said nervously.

"Is this your car our here?" said an angry male voice.

"Sorry?" Rosie didn't know what the man meant. Out where?

She heard an infuriated sigh. "Is this red, Volkswagon Polo, registration number LA64 DFR your car? It's quite a simple question."

Rosie's eyes narrowed. She didn't appreciate this man's tone.

"Yes!" she said, reflecting his standoffishness. "Is there a problem?" Rosie was quite shocked at how bolshy she was being. It really wasn't like her at all.

"Yes there is. You're taking up the whole of the parking space. There is enough room for two cars. Come and move it!" he continued.

Rosie was livid. Who did this man think he was? Someone looking for a parking space while he goes to do his Saturday shopping? "No actually, I can't. We are renting this apartment for the week, so we have the right to park anywhere we like in that area." Rosie felt herself shaking as she spoke; the girls would be proud of her. She was never this confrontational.

"Well," began the angry man, "I am the owner of the property so I think my right out does yours!"

"Fuckkkkk!" Rosie said silently, putting her fist to her forehead and bashing herself a number of times.

"I'm so sorry. Just give me a minute, I'll get the key." Rosie ran from the intercom into the bedroom and throwing clothes about, she tried desperately to remember where she'd left the car key.

"What are you doing?" Clair asked sleepily.

"Looking for the key. The owner of the house is outside and he wants me to move my car. Where is it?" Rosie panicked. Hearing a clatter on the floor, she dropped the clothes, snatched up the key and ran out of the bedroom. Just as she got to the front door, she looked down and realised she was wearing pyjama shorts, vest top and her dressing gown. She turned ready to run back and change, but at the reverberating sound of the intercom in her ear she decided to sod it, put on her shoes and left the apartment.

Opening the gate, she looked around and immediately saw a flashy blue car, the driver's door of which had just shut. She heard the engine rev.

"Alright, alright," she said under her breath, followed by something far more offensive in her head!